


Iron Menace

by WinterHoneybee



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-03-04 03:26:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13355523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterHoneybee/pseuds/WinterHoneybee
Summary: It felt good.Threatening people, burning up buildings, especially to these assholes that deserved it.It felt good.And behind the mask, Tony knew he should stop before it got out of hand.At least, stop before his husband found out.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay! So this is basically an AU where Tony is a villain, and Steve is a reporter. Steve doesn't know Tony is a villain, as they're both married in real time.

“Please, I beg of you, Please!”, a man begged, as he bent to his knees, hands in prayer, as a man began to steal wads of cash from the register, and lighting them on fire.

 

The man was cloaked in red and various shades of gold, his face obscured, even in the harsh lighting of the gas station. His steps were heavy, his shoes fashioned like ski-boots. He turned to stare at the begging man, and the eyes of his mask flared a bright blue. 

 

The begging man gulped, as the cloaked man began to advance towards him.

 

_ Clank. Clank. Clank. _

 

The cloaked man grabbed him by the front of his shirt, and tossed him outside of the store, just before he lit the store on fire as well, a tiny missile deployed from the arm of his cloaked figure.

 

The cloaked man walked out of the flames, unscathed. He bent towards the begging man, smiling to himself as he did so.

 

“We know what you did.”, he said, his voice coming out as deep and powerful. The poor man shivered, “Never. Do. It. Again.”

 

***

 

  “Steve, another damage report’s come in.”, a man with brown hair said, twisting the sleeves of his dark red shirt, as he scanned the report.

 

“Another one?”, Steve asked, running his fingers through his already perfect blonde hair. He stood behind the first man, arms crossed, his shirt tightly drawn across his chest, “Read it to me, Buck.”

 

“Better for you to see it yourself.”, his friend had said, as he handed the thin manilla folder to Steve, a mix of a smile and a frown on his face. Steve glanced at Bucky warily, before scanning the file quickly. He frowned.

 

“Why destroy the shop, but save the man?”, Steve wondered aloud, frowning. Bucky shrugged, his shirt sleeves forming knots. 

 

“Beats me. Maybe he’s after something.”, Bucky suggested, reaching for his phone. Steve looked at him, eyebrow arched, obviously thinking the same thing.

 

“Well, reasons aside, he’s done quite a number to this city already. The best we can hope for now is that everyone keeps safe, and protect themselves while this guy isn’t as out there as he could be. The police department found anything?”, Steve asked, staring at Bucky solemnly, his chest deflating, he could already tell that there would be nothing.

 

“If there was, I would’ve told you. You know me, Steve.”, Bucky said, as he and Steve exchanged knowing smiles, “I know how obsessed you are on this guy’s case.”

 

“I’m not obsessed.”, Steve stated, getting ready to defend himself, “I’m just trying to protect the city.”

 

“I know, I know.”, Bucky smiled, “Now go on, get reporting.”

 

Steve smiled good-naturedly, as he read the file on last time, and left the room.

 

Bucky turned on his phone, scanning through his texts.

 

He twiddled his thumbs for a moment, before he sent a text to Steve.

 

_ Don’t do anything stupid, punk. _

 

He saw Steve’s hesitation, as he looked over the message.

 

Bucky smiled, as he looked at Steve’s text.

 

_ Jerk. _

 

***

 

  “This is Steve Rogers, live from the crime scene that happened last night at precisely nine o’ six pm.”, Steve said, staring directly into the camera, gesturing towards the now ruined gas station.

 

“Victim Obadiah Stane reported last night that a man, dressed in red and gold, had attacked his gas station as he was closing up. Obadiah Stane begged on his knees, but it seems as though this man showed no mercy, as he continued to wreak havoc. Lighting the cash in the register on fire, as well as the gas station itself. It’s a wonder the fire didn’t trigger the gasoline. But for that, we should be thankful.”, Steve said heavily, turning to look back at the smoldering building, his eyes darkening with sorrow.

 

            “But don't be disheartened, New York City. We’ve faced worse and got through this. We'll get through this too.”

 

***

 

Steve slipped in through the door quietly, closing the apartment door behind him. He sighed, looking around at the apartment that had once held so much promise. Now, there were crushed soda cans, coffee grounds, as well as abandoned papers strewn across the carpeted floor that had once been clean. 

 

But in a way, this apartment held quite a lot of promise, although it had veered off of the course Steve thought his life was going to go. He had expected himself to be living in a quiet house in the south, Georgia, or maybe even North Carolina, with three dogs, a white picket fence, as well as two healthy and happy children, with a gleaming wife to complete the set. They would have parties every Fourth of July, as well as throwing their children large birthday parties at the local laser tag ring, and go to see the movies as a family every time their children had accomplished a good grade on a test. They would eat out at a nice diner, not too expensive, but just right, the booth still clean although worn out. They would share meals in the well-lit diner, congratulating the child on their well-deserved meal out. A special treat. Yes, Steve Rogers had once wanted the American Dream, apple pie and all.

 

“You okay? You zoned out on me there.”, a voice huffed, as Steve snapped back to reality. 

 

It was his husband, smiling adoringly at him, a tired look in his eyes. His hair was messy and tousled, as though he had just been woken up. His warm brown eyes pierced into Steve’s blue ones.

 

And as cheesy as this sounds, Steve melted at the sight of them.

 

“Hey, Tony.”, he said softly, kissing his (shorter) significant other. Tony smiled into the kiss, as they pulled apart.

 

“How was work?”, he asked, as Steve sighed, the day’s stress returning to him.

 

“Honestly?”, Steve asked, now feeling dizzy, “I don’t even know where to begin.”

 

“Sit down and tell me about it.”, Tony suggested, pulling up a chair for Steve.

 

Steve sat down cautiously, as Tony padded over to the kitchen. Steve watched as Tony opened the cabinet, reaching for the box of hot chocolate mix. Steve smiled at the ground sheepishly, as he noticed Tony standing on his tiptoes just to reach it. Somehow, he still managed to blush every time he noticed a new detail about Tony, or rather, any detail about the man. 

 

He felt a blush creep up to his cheeks.

 

“One packet or two?”, Tony asked, as Steve gave a chuckle.

“You always know it tastes better with two.”

 

Funny, how far his life had strayed from his American dream.

 

He and Tony had met during a science convention. At the time Steve had been a small reporter, writing an article for an online news source. Fueled with ambition, he wanted the best article possible. 

 

And what better way was there to do so then ask Tony Stark himself?

 

Tony at that time had just taken over Stark Industries, filled with dread, and worry. This was the first time he was running his father’s tradition of the yearly Stark Science Expo. He had come up with inventions, sure, but they were all half-assed, and measly prototypes. But they kept the people happy, so what was there to lose?

 

He was a genius, after all. Anything he half-assed would be enough to satisfy the common people that entered the expo. 

 

Steve had confronted Tony, boldly, if he might add, to ask Tony a few questions about the inventions Tony had presented earlier. Tony had groaned, but once he saw the face behind the notebook, he had hastily changed his answer to something that sparked hope inside Steve. Hope for a good article, that is.

 

One night, was all that it took for Steve to fall in love with Tony.

 

It was midnight, they had been talking for hours after the expo. Four hours, to be exact. They had walked around the expo, stopping at every food stall. They had gagged at astronaut ice cream together, as well as trying to drink water inside a machine that took away all gravity. They had laughed together, shared a few smiles (which was very rare for Tony Stark), and Tony even stood behind Steve as Steve threw up into the nearest trash can (Who knew that eating fair spaghetti was a bad idea before the gravity machine?) 

 

At the end of the night, Steve had more than enough information to write a stellar article, and Tony felt happier than he had been in a long time. They exchanged phone numbers, and went their separate ways.

 

Only to meet the next weekend, of course.

 

One thing came after another, and eventually, they had many firsts together. First fight, first night doing something other than sleeping, first movie dates. Some of those even became recurring things. Eventually, overcoming their obstacles and such, Tony had proposed. They had married on May 16th, and the two of them had been happier than ever before.  

 

And honestly?

 

Steve couldn’t see himself living with anyone else other than Tony.

 

“It’s the guy, well, criminal.”, Steve started, as Tony momentarily froze, before going back to preparing the hot chocolate, “They call him the Iron Menace. Ever heard of him?”

 

Tony turned around, eyebrow raised to Steve, “You mean the person on the news? He’s pretty dangerous, isn’t he?”

 

Steve sighed, “I wish I’d know. Sometimes I don’t know what that guy’s end game is.” 

Tony handed Steve the steaming cup of hot chocolate, giving him a chaste kiss on his cheek. 

 

“Thanks.”, Steve said, as he blew into the mug, eyes twinkling as he looked up at Tony. Tony smiled back, the lights in their dingy kitchen somehow brighter.

 

“Tell me more about him then.”, Tony said, shushing Steve once he opened his mouth to rebuttal, “I don’t want any of the police report crap. You’re a reporter, right? Tell me what you think of him.”

 

Steve stared at his mug, thinking of what he should say. There wasn’t exactly a Wikipedia article on this guy, right? It wasn’t every day New York City ran into raging robot cyborg villains who blew up gas stations just to prove a point. There wasn’t exactly a reason behind any of the Iron Menace’s attacks, like scatterplots without a correlation. It didn’t help the Iron Menace was no short on humility either, donning colors of gold and hot rod red, making inappropriate gestures at cameras while fleeing a crime scene.

 

“Hell if I know.”, Steve began, slowly, trying to find his words, “I don’t think he’s as bad as they make him out to be. Last night he blew up a gas station, after threatening Obidiah Stane, but he didn’t actually do anything, you know? He could’ve killed Stane right then and there, no one would have said anything. God, no one could have said anything if he killed Obidiah and then blew up the gas station. But then that leaves the question of, if he’s not here on some sort of rampage, what’s he after? What’s his end-game?”

 

Tony stared at Steve awingly, giving Steve a small, sad smile. 

 

“I just… I don’t know Tony.”, Steve said, in a small, quiet voice, “I just want the people to be safe.”

 

Tony sighed, as he drained the rest of his mug, padding over to the kitchen to put the mug in the sink. 

“I think you’ve got the right idea, just maybe.”, Tony said, giving Steve a tired smile, “About keeping the people safe, I mean.”

 

Steve looked up, confused.

 

“What’s that supposed to mean Tony?”

 

“What I mean is… The Iron Menace isn’t safe. It’s best if you stay away from him.”, Tony said softly, looking up at Steve’s eyes, frightened.

 

Steve sighed, wrapping his arms around Tony, the two of them leaning against the hallway wall.

 

“If it makes you frightened, then that’s good enough reason for me.”, Steve whispered, “We should sleep, yeah?”

 

Tony nodded in agreement.

 

***

 

The two of them lay there, tangled limbs and all, a blanket draped over them. Their hands were intertwined, Tony snuggling against Steve’s chest.

 

But Steve was awake, staring up at the dark, dark ceiling, wondering what was going to happen next.


	2. I could get used to this

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You get to see what Steve and Tony's lives are more like in this chapter

_ Clank. Clank Clank. _

 

“Tell me where you hid the weapons.”, the voice demanded, an iron gauntlet wrapping the man’s throat. The man brought his hands up towards the iron hand, trying to pry open the fingers, his voice pleading for help. 

 

“I-I don’t know!”, the man rasped out, his eyes bulging as he continued to try and pry the iron fingers apart, “Please, please, please…”

 

“Silent!”, the voice demanded, it’s mechanical voice silencing the pleading man. The cloak was thrown off, and the man gasped.

 

It was a man, but at the same time, it was something completely different altogether. Welded into the shape of a man, scraps of metal, the colors fabricated to be hot rod red, laced with golden accents. Where the eyes should have been, there were glowing slits, the light harsh in the night of the alleyway. In the center of the man’s chest, was a matching light, blue, and crackling with energy. It highlighted the armor, the eyes and the light protruding out of the chest, giving the man sharp edges and a looming sense of an authority figure. 

 

The Iron Menace.

 

The man sent a silent prayer.

 

The Iron Menace whirred it’s head around, glowing eyes scanning the alleyway.

 

“I’d stop right there, if I was you.”, a voice said, standing at the entrance of the alleyway, quaking in silent fear.

 

The Iron Menace, if it had anything but a slit for a mouth, looked shocked. Who was this man to challenge him?

 

“Who’s to stop me?”, the Iron Menace said, kicking the pleading man aside, walking towards his challenger.

 

“I am.”, the voice said, after a moment’s hesitation, stepping into view, the harsh blue light from the Iron Menace’s chest piece illuminating his face.

 

The Iron Menace paused for a moment.

“And I’m not the only one.”, the challenger said, his fists clenched, “You’re just a bully, I know exactly who you are. You only bully people into getting what you want, it’s the only way you know how. Well, I don’t like bullies, and neither do many other people. Take me down, more people will come.”

The Iron Menace did nothing, only stared at the challenger.

 

Then without warning, it fired up its jet repulsors, and flew away.

 

***

 

“Sir, you alright?”, Steve asked, running towards the man kneeling on the ground, after reaching for his flashlight on his key ring. He shone it at the man, checking for injuries.

 

The man nodded, grinning at Steve, “Thanks to you, I will be.”

 

Steve gave a small smile back, helping the man up.

“That was awfully brave of you.”, the man said once again, as Steve shrugged, waving it off. It was practically nothing, after all. Anyone would have done the same.

 

“Sir, with all due respect, anyone would’ve done the same thing.”, Steve said, supporting them an out of the alleyway and into the lights of the street, “I have my car parked outside of the deli down the street here, I’ll take you back home.”

 

“Thank you.”, the man then laughed, “What are you, some kind of hero?”

 

Steve flushed, noticeable in the lighting.

 

“No, seriously.”, the man said, smiling, “I get to see my kid one more day because of you. If you’re not a hero, then consider yourself mine.”

 

Steve laughed, red with embarrassment, “It’s nothing sir, really. It wasn’t a bother.”

 

The two walked down the street in silence, processing the events that had just happened. Steve took his notepad out of the shotgun seat, and held the door open for the man. 

 

“Notes?”, the man inquired, raising an eyebrow. Steve smiled.

 

“I’m a reporter, sir.”

 

“Ah, I see.”, the man said, as Steve sat in the driver’s seat, starting the car. Steve hummed, as the engine roared to life.

  
  


***

 

“Hey, Tony.”, Steve greeted, as he entered the apartment, groceries in tow. Tony looked up from the kitchen table, in the middle of opening a bottle. 

 

Steve’s eyes widened, and without thinking, he snatched at the bottle, as Tony let out an undignified groan of disapproval.

 

“Tony… you didn’t drink any, did you?”, Steve asked, shaking Tony lightly, looking into his husband’s eyes. Steve, on his knees, as Tony stirred slightly, hanging over the chair, giggling quietly.

 

“Gimme my bottle, Stevie…”, Tony rambled, making a lazy attempt to grab at the bottle in Steve’s hands. Steve sighed, as he threw the bottle in the trash. Tony whined

 

“Tony, what happened today?”, he asked softly, getting down to his knees once more, he and Tony at eye level with the other, “You said you weren’t drinking anymore, remember? Ten months clean?”

 

“I wanted to.”, Tony giggled, as he looked into Steve’s eyes for the first time, as he began squirming, obviously uncomfortable, “I almost lost you”

 

“Tony? That doesn’t make sense…”, Steve said softly, reaching for Tony’s hands. They were cold, they almost always were. He kissed them softly, as Tony began crying softly, sobbing into his shoulder.

 

“Tony? It’s okay…”, Steve cooed, as he rubbed circles on Tony’s back. Tony hiccuped.

 

“I’m not leaving you Tony.”, Steve said, as he carried Tony into their cramped bedroom, bundling Tony in blankets, “Not now, not ever. And don’t you ever worry about it.”

 

“Really?”, Tony whispered, his voice eerily quiet, “Even if I did something bad?”

 

“Even if you did something bad. We’ll work it out, we always have.”, Steve confirmed, kissing Tony’s forehead. Tony giggled, in spite of himself.

 

“Steve?”

 

“Mm?”

 

“Love you”

 

“Love you too, Tony.”

 

***

“Steve, are you nuts or something?”, Bucky hollered, whacking Steve upside the head with a rolled up newspaper. Steve rolled his eyes, sighing.

 

“I wasn’t nuts Bucky, I was just doing the right thing.”, Steve insisted, as Bucky plopped into the wheeled chair next to him, sighing heavily. The boardroom was now empty, the others all on their lunch break.

 

“Yeah, I know I know.”, Bucky huffed, crossing his arms across his chest, “You’re dumb as shit, Steve. I can’t believe Tony has to put up with your ass.”

 

Steve gave a soft smile at the mention of Tony, as Bucky groaned.

 

“Steve, you’re a public figure. Everyone in the area knows you, whether you like it or not. And I bet if you pull this stunt one more time then the Iron Menace is gonna get the bright idea of just looking you up. You know he’d find your address and everything, bet the guy is smart enough to find it.”, Bucky said in a low voice, giving Steve a concerned look, “Just be careful, alright?”

 

Steve hummed softly, “You know I will, Buck.”

 

“That’s the spirit.”, Bucky approved, getting out of the chair and putting his coat on, “You coming to lunch or what?”

 

Steve smiled, as he stood up and got his coat on too, “You bet. Maybe I’ll pop off and see Tony down the street. We are going to that diner right? The one with the lady that owns the three cats?”

 

Bucky laughed, “Wouldn’t be able to go anywhere else, would we?”

 

Steve joined in the laughter, as the two of them left the boardroom as well, smiling and laughing along the way.

 

***

 

“JARVIS, go back to last night’s footage.”, Tony said quietly, in the quiet of his shop. He was the only one here at the moment, the lunch rush never brought in customers. He was smothered with oil and grease, from the last customer. 

 

“Gladly, sir.”, JARVIS said, as a pop up hologram screen played the events of last night. The dark alleyway, the man begging on his knees. 

 

Then, the challenger.

 

“Freeze frame.”, Tony commanded, as JARVIS paused the video. The challenger was muscular, but it was a form that Tony had seen many times before.

 

Hell, he would know that frame from anywhere.

 

“Steve.”, he said in a whisper, as he grabbed the holograph screen and clapped his hands together, making the screen go away. Of course he was right last night, Steve was the man that challenged him.

 

“It does appear to be Mr. Rogers-Stark, sir.”, JARVIS said, as Tony felt a twinge of pride at the mention of Steve’s last name, despite it being Tony’s last name as well.

 

“Let’s not tell him.”, Tony said quickly, “Steve doesn’t need to know I’m the Iron Menace.”

 

“Of course, sir.”, JARVIS obeyed, “On the topic of Mr. Rogers-Stark, I would like to report that you’ve received a text from him.”

 

“Read it to me.”, Tony commanded, as he wiped his face with a towel.

 

“Be there in five!”, JARVIS read aloud, as Tony nodded, as he began to tidy up the place.

 

“Thank you JARVIS.”, Tony said, smiling softly as he picked up his phone, his lockscreen of him and Steve.

 

They were in the ferris wheel, holding gobs of spun sugar candy between their fingertips, grinning at the camera in an almost drunk-matter, the fireworks going off in the distance, just visible at the edge of the photo. The two of them were wearing corresponding superhero t-shirts. Steve was wearing Superman, obviously. Tony was wearing Batman (also another no-brainer. Of course he would be Batman)

 

It all came down to this, didn’t it?

 

He loved Steve.

 

But he couldn’t tell Steve about any of this.

 

***

 

“Tony?”, Steve asked, as he wandered into the shop. He was clutching a brown paper bag, filled with leftovers from the diner, as he smiled.

 

Tony was sprawled on the couch he kept in his office, snoring lightly, using his flannel as a blanket. Steve got on his knees and kissed Tony’s forehead lightly, as Tony stirred awake.

“Steve?”, Tony asked, grinning softly, making a grab for the bag of food in Steve’s hands, “Gimme.”

 

Steve laughed, “I knew it, you’re only with me because of food.”

 

Tony scoffed, “Food is the best way into a man’s heart.”

 

Steve smiled, scooting Tony aside so he could join him on the couch, “But I’d say I’m already into the man’s heart, don’t you agree?”

 

Tony looked at Steve.

 

“Yes, definitely.”, Tony said quickly, kissing Steve, catching him by surprise.


	3. Chapter 3

***

 

"This is Steve Rogers, reporting live.”, Steve began, adjusting his glasses. It was one of those days.

 

First, Tony woke up late, covered with bruises and cuts that he refused to explain in detail to Steve, only stating that he had been mugged while walking down the streets at night by a couple of thugs, but otherwise remained unharmed.

 

Then, Steve had stayed behind a little later than he should have, trying to dress Tony’s wounds properly, as he knew Tony hadn’t the night before. Tony had fussed at him, trying his best to get Steve out of the door in time, insisting that he was fine. Steve, like the stubborn person he was, refused to hear any of it, and wouldn’t step a foot out of the door until Tony’s wounds were properly addressed.

 

In his panic of trying to help Tony, he had forgotten to put in his contacts, leaving him to put on his bulky pair of glasses that usually sat untouched on the kitchen counter, pushed away to the corner, almost forgotten. 

 

And of course, the day that he had to wear his glasses, it had decided to rain.

 

“The Iron Menace appears to have struck last night.”, Steve said slowly, looking into the camera, after assessing the damage of the scene, “No witnesses, but there were several people rushed to the hospital, all in critical condition.”

 

Steve paused for a moment.

 

“Whether it’s been done directly by the Iron Menace is unknown.”, Steve said solemnly, “But hear me, the Iron Menace will pay for what he’s done to our New York City.”

 

***

 

“You were pretty dramatic up there.”, Bucky said casually, scrolling thoughtlessly through his phone.

 

Steve shrugged, “It’s only the truth, Buck. The Iron Menace has been causing harm and distress to New York for years, especially in the Manhattan area. Who knows what he’s after?”

 

“It’d be a lot easier if he didn’t wear that suit with his goddamn mask.”, Bucky agreed, opening his social media profile, “Then we’d know what he’s after and get him in the act.”

 

Steve gave another shrug, not knowing how to respond. What Bucky said was true, wasn’t it? But what if there was another reason behind it? Maybe the Iron Menace had a wife, or a family somewhere. But if he did have a family, he shouldn’t be doing things like that, not when he knows what’s on the line for them.

 

“Maybe that’s the whole point of the mask, Buck.”, Steve snorted, “So no one can see what he’s after.”

 

“But most villains have plans, Steve. You know, the whole evil monologue thing? And aren’t villains supposed to be full of themselves anyway?”, Bucky shrugged, a grin coming across his face, as he threw his feet up on the table, stretching his back.

 

“He’s not one of those villains, Buck. He’s just a man who needs to be punished for his crimes.”, Steve gave a matching grin, as he copied Bucky’s movements. 

 

It was times like these were what Steve lived for. He loved his line of work, not to get anything wrong. But with the rushing and back and forth of reporting various accidents around the area, it gets tiresome, and more often than not, fills Steve with dread. All these horrible things, yet no one seemed to pay any attention. Sometimes it felt like a lost battle.

 

But here, drawing up ideas and possibilities with Bucky, were calming.

 

And that was all Steve needed.

 

***

 

“They’re calling you Captain America or some shit, Steve!”, Bucky howled, as Steve glared at him, scrolling through Bucky’s phone, his eyes wide in disbelief. Steve felt himself flush, turning a brilliant pink color. He hadn’t meant to be so passive in his reporting of the Iron Menace, Bucky knew this. 

 

But the media had taken it a step too far, now deeming that Steve stood for all of the right things, the liberty, justice, and freedom for all. Whatever that meant. Steve didn’t stand for any of that, he was simply stating what was right. Someone had to stand up against the Iron Menace.

 

Steve let out a surprised yelp, as he saw various images, feeling his face head up even further. Bucky took one more look at him and howled with laughter, as he snatched his phone back from Steve’s hands, a grin on his face.

 

“See? Knew you’d react like that.”, Bucky snickered, as their cameraman, Clint, snickered, “But Steve, this is great. You do know that, right?”

 

Steve raised his eyebrow at Bucky, not knowing where this was going.

 

“More people are willing to listen to someone with a voice they can resonate with.”, Bucky said, his eyes softening and his tone becoming serious, “You’re that voice, Steve.”

 

“That’s absurd, Buck.”, Steve said, equally as serious, “I’m just a kid from Brooklyn. There’s nothing that makes me special.”

 

“Rogers, we’re leaving in five!”, a voice called, the man walking briskly past the room, overlooking the fresh reports in furiously, checking for all the information.

 

“Sure Steve.”, Bucky said, giving Steve a sad smile, before Steve excused himself and hurried out of the room.

 

He had a story to report.

 

***

 

“The Iron Menace has been connected to multiple charges of negligent homicide.”, Steve said into the camera, holding the mic up properly, eyeing the burning building to his left. It was bad, fire seeping through the cracks of the brick building, the windows shattered, and smoke billowing out in large clumps, sending out a warning.

 

The Iron Menace wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted.

 

“The Iron Menace continues to terrorize the city, and it seems as though he doesn’t care about the aftermath of this mess. Not only are the innocent in danger, the criminals are as well.”, Steve reported, the sentence sitting oddly on his tongue, “For those with ties to the Iron Menace, cutting off those ties would be the best course of action.”

 

***

 

_ Blood. _

 

That was all Tony dreamed about nowadays, when he drifted off in his office, when the string of customers came to a halt for the day. 

 

_ There was blood on his hands, and no matter how hard he tried to get it off, it was always there, a stubborn reminder of who he was. _

 

_ He was nothing but a murderer. _

 

_ He could hear the people screaming, the chaos of the madmen with the guns, and the sounds of bombs going off. He could hear all the bodies, all the bodies except for him, falling down to the ground, tumbling over like rag dolls. He could see the twisted concentration of a man’s face. The man was bigger than him, bigger than anyone he had ever fought. He was dressed sharply, as well as the group of equally greedy people standing behind him. They had specks of blood on their face, but their uniforms were clean. They were staring down at him, condescending.  _

 

_ “You’re nothing without your weapons.”, the man said, looming above Tony. His fat, greedy face was scrunched up in fury, and his eyes holding a glint of disappointment. _

 

Tony whimpered.

 

_ “All we needed from you were weapons.”, a lady said, as she stepped forward, looming above him now, her nails like puppet strings, and Tony the puppet. She had a mad grin on her face, split at the ends with trails of blood. Her eyes had a hint of madness to them, as she laughed, “Peace! The profiteer of war wants peace!” _

 

_ “The Profiteer of war wants peace! The profiteer of war wants peace!”, the men and women began to chant, gradually getting louder with every chant.  _

 

_ Tony looked around, staring at the dead bodies that littered the room. The blood on his hands, the blood on his suit. The screams still ringing in his ears. He could still feel the rush of the bullets as they narrowly missed him. _

 

_ There was a small child, staring up at him, a bullet lodged in his neck. He would have been bright, Tony bitterly thinks. The child is holding a toy robot in his hands, the light in his eyes gone. That light had been taken from him when the bullet had found a home in his neck. _

 

_ “The merchant of death wants peace.”, The child spoke, his words choked out and painful, as he made a grip for Tony’s ankle, the move sudden and harsh.  _

 

_ “The merchant of death wants peace!”, a woman shouted, her dead body twisted in pain and agony, as her face showed unmatched levels of fury. She made a grab for Tony’s other ankle, howling with rage. _

 

_ “The merchant of death wants what he can not buy!”, a third voice said. It was a man this time, his face littered with scars, from serving in the war. He grabs onto Tony’s wrist, getting to his feet. He has a bullet straight in his chest, blood seeping through his uniform. _

 

_ “The merchant of death wants peace!”, the other bodies screamed, as they shook with laughter. They made their way to Tony, their faces pale, hands clammy, as they gripped onto him tightly, laughing, as they continued their chant.  _

 

_ More hands began to grab at him. They stained his clothes, his shoes, and his skin. He couldn’t feel anything underneath the suffocating amount of hands.  _

 

_ The laughter continued, as more hands were added to the pile, reaching out for some piece of Tony. _

 

_ Tony felt his chest tighten, as his vision went black. _

 

***

 

“There’s a lot of things to choose from, you know.”, Tony said with a smile, as he stood at the end of the aisle, wrapping Steve’s jacket around him tightly for warmth.

 

Steve looked up at him, his concentration broken away from the various pencils and sketchbooks presented in front of him, a small smile gracing his face.

 

“I know.”, Steve shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets, as he flushed, “But you look best when it’s in the moment.”

 

Tony raised his eyebrow, as he chuckled, “If you did a painting of me, I’m sure I’d be able to keep still for a couple of hours. Well, minutes. But they’d be long minutes.”

 

“Painting won’t let me get you in the moment. Tony.”, Steve huffed, as he turned to look at the various sketchbooks and pencils again, the grin still on his face.

 

“But Steve!”, Tony gasped, putting his hand over his heart, offended, “I think I’d look dashing in a painting, wouldn’t you say so?”

 

Steve laughed.

 

“You’d look best in anything Tony.”, Steve said softly, as Tony stopped his dramatics, his eyes wide, his cheeks tingling.

 

“You mean it?”, Tony asked, his voice barely above a whisper. It had been years of this, they had been married for a few years, and together for much longer. 

 

But the betrayal in Tony’s past made him weary. He was always suspicious of other people’s motives from the start, whether they were good people or not. It wasn’t something he could stop, considering it had saved his life on more than one occasion.

 

But Steve, was something that Tony was never sure of. Yes, Steve had pointed out Tony’s flaws, insisting that he fix them. Just like the other people in his past had done. But Steve had done it differently, insisting Tony fix it for himself, not for the future, or the company, or even for Steve himself. He had helped Tony to choose and pick his battles, while giving him feedback. It wasn’t like the critics, where they were harsh, cruel and unrelenting. Steve had said the things wrong with Tony in ways that inspired Tony to change.

 

And unlike the rest of the world; the critics and the media, Steve had stayed by Tony’s side, mistakes and all.

 

“I mean it, Tony.”, Steve said, breaking his sight to look at Tony, as he reached over and picked a medium-sized sketchbook and a few pencils.

 

“I promise.”, Steve said, as he looked down at Tony fondly, kissing his forehead lightly, “I’d be able to see the best in you, in anything.”

 

Tony leaned into the kiss, deciding not to say anything.

 

He didn't need to.


	4. Notice

*** I will be writing this whole thing out rather than posting it in chapters due to the fact I write all of this on one google doc, and copy and paste random parts for a chapter and it's getting confusing for me. Therefore, I will be writing this whole thing out and posting it as one large chapter, and going back and deleting previous chapters. Please be patient with me and I'm sorry for doing this ***


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